


I want you close

by CiaraSky



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Caring, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 18:24:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7981588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CiaraSky/pseuds/CiaraSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Mh,” she mumbled, rubbing her forehead.<br/>“Want me to bring you upstairs?” Bellamy asked and Clarke looked over at him.<br/>“Mhm,” she agreed.<br/>*<br/>Based on "I'm calling you really drunk right now, can you pick me up a city over?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	I want you close

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ofhobbitsandwomen (litvirg)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/litvirg/gifts).



> Gifted to my wonderful Steph for always having a sympathetic ear for me and beta'ing this drabble!

Bellamy held his hand out for the girl in front of him, but she turned away and started running. As her feet hit the pavement, they made a weird noise. Bing, bing, bing bing bing. Bing, bing...

 

Bellamy’s eyes snapped open as he woke up. It hadn’t been footsteps, it was his phone, ringing. _Who the hells calls in the middle of the night?_ , he asked himself. Reaching out for the phone on the nightstand, he turned his head and screwed up his eyes at the sudden brightness. The phone kept ringing, and he half expected to see Murphy’s or Miller’s name on the display, but his eyebrows rose up in surprise when he saw who was actually calling: Clarke.

He swiped over the screen to accept the call and brought his phone up to his ear.

“Yeah?” he murmured as he heard faint music in the background.

“Bellamy?” Clarke replied. Bellamy sat up in his bed at the tone of her voice. “Cayupleasepimeup?” Bellamy blinked, not answering. “Bellamyyyyyyy!” Clarke now called, whining.

“Clarke,” Bellamy said matter-of-factly. “Where are you?”

“Rockville,” she slurred and he heard her sigh. He knitted his eyebrows as he brought his phone to his other ear, leaning over to turn on his table lamp. He almost wanted to ask what Clarke was doing in Rockville, but then he remembered that she was out with Octavia and Raven. “Where’re the others?”

“I don’ know...” Clarke said, sounding lost.

Bellamy pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes.

“Have you tried calling them?” he asked, inhaling.

“Ya,” Clarke replied. “They don’ pick up.”

Bellamy licked his lips, inhaling and exhaling annoyed. He fumbled for his watch on the bedside table; it was 2:17. Suddenly there was shouting in the background from Clarke’s side of the convo, then rustling.

“Clarke?” Bellamy called out, concerned. “Clarke, you ok?”

“Yeah...” Clarke sighed. “I jus’... Bell, can you pick me up. Please?”

His fingers ran through his hair as he heard himself agree.

“Just stay where you are, ok?” he demanded as he jammed his phone between ear and shoulder, getting out of bed to put on a pair of jeans.

“Mhm,” Clarke agrees and he could hear the clicking of her heels on the pavement stop.

“Tell me where you are,” Bellamy said, putting on socks.

“Uh... North Wash... Washin’ton Street,” she said, the clicking of her heels starting again. “An’ Wood Lane. There’s an Exxon.”

“Stay there, Clarke,” Bellamy ordered, picking his shirt from the day before up from the floor.

“Okay,” she says and Bellamy hangs up to pull the shirt on. He grabs his car keys and heads outside.

*

“What do you mean, you just went home?” Bellamy asked his sister over loudspeaker as he drove out of Gaithersburg and into Rockville.

“Clarke said she wanted to stay, she was flirting with that girl, Ni-something. Come on, Bell, don’t act like I left a 7 year old in a foreign city.”

Bellamy stopped at a red light, watching the cars at the intersection pass.

“Right,” he agreed. “Just, next time, I won’t pick her up. Not at this ungodly hour.”

“Sure, big bro,” Octavia teased him. He could hear the grin in her voice.

*

Bellamy pulled into the lot of the gas station, parking in front of the shop. He peeked inside and could make out Clarke next to the coffee machine, talking to the employee. So he got out of the car and inside the shop.

“Bell!” Clarke called as she spotted him, smiling. She threw her paper cup into the trashcan and headed over to him

“Come on, boozer, let’s get you home,” Bellamy said and put his hand on the small of Clarke’s back to steer her towards the car, and because he was afraid she would fall in her heels.

“Next time you don’t leave your girlfriend in another city without cash for the ride home,” the employee called after them as they were about to leave the shop. Bellamy turned his head around to look at the guy.

“She’s not...” Bellamy started, but then shook his head. “Whatever, man.” He turned back and went to the car with Clarke, opening the door for her. She slipped inside, practically melting into the worn-out seat. He then reached for the seatbelt, realizing that Clarke was far too wasted and tired to be able to find the buckle. He pulled the seatbelt out and reached over Clarke to buckle her up. He felt the heat radiating off of her and became awfully aware of how close his face was to her breasts. He quickly retreated, bringing more space between them.

Clarke’s head rested on her shoulder, her eyes closed, her breathing even. _She’s already asleep_ , he realized. With a quick motion of his fingers, he brushed a strand out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. But his fingers lingered there, at the spot where her earlobe transitioned into her jaw and for a second, he allowed himself to run his fingertips over the soft skin of her neck. But then Clarke moved in her sleep and Bellamy drew his hand back, thinking he woke her up.

But no. She was still asleep, her head now resting on her other shoulder.

Bellamy took a deep breath before he stepped back and shut the door, rounding the car and getting in. He started the car, but none of this woke Clarke up. Neither did the truck that honked at him on 355. Only when he pulled up at the flat she shared with her best friend, Wells, and killed the engine, did her eyes flutter open.

“We’re there, Princess,” he said softly over to her, both of them still in their seats.

“Mh,” she mumbled, rubbing her forehead.

“Want me to bring you upstairs?” Bellamy asked and Clarke looked over at him.

“Mhm,” she agreed as she started to fumble for the buckle, but Bellamy reached over and released the seatbelt. “Thanks,” Clarke whispered as she fished for her purse in the leg room. Bellamy had already made his way around the car to open the door for Clarke and help her outside. Gratefully, she accepted the hand he held out for her, getting out of his truck. She offered him the keys, which he took before he locked the car, then hovering with his free hand over Clarke’s back.

“I can walk omyown, you know,” Clarke said, looking at him over her shoulder with her smirk. Bellamy held his hands up in defense, the corners of his mouth tugging up.

“Go ahead, Princess,” he said, but kept walking behind her. But she made it up the stairs to the entrance door ok and let him past to unlock the door. As he did so, she laid her hand on his shoulder, leaning close.

“Thanks for pickin’ me up, Bell,” she sighed, her eyes half closed. Bellamy drew a shaky breath as he looked at her.

“Sure,” he tried to brush it off, but he felt the heat in his cheeks. “Anytime.”

Clarke smiled at this and leaned back, but instead of taking her hand off his shoulder, she brushed her fingertips over his cheek. Bellamy froze.

But Clarke giggled and the moment was gone as she dove through under his arm that held open the door. Bellamy started after as she made her way through the half-lit hallway and to the stairs to the next level.

“You comin’?” she called and Bellamy broke out of his rigor, following her. He tried hard not to look at Clarke’s legs as she climbed the stairs in front of him, keeping his eyes on the steps. But they, inevitably, reached the top of the stairs and came to a halt in front of Clarke’s apartment door. Bellamy looked at the key ring in his hands, trying to remember which one was the one to Clarke’s apartment. Before he could, Clarke laid her hands over his, stopping his fidgeting. Bellamy looked up at her face, into her sky blue eyes. She stared right back.

“Clarke, I...”

“Shh, shh, shh,” Clarke shushed him, bringing her one hand up to rest on the side of his neck.

“Clarke, you’re drunk. I don’t think we should...” Bellamy started, but Clarke shushed him again.

“I really like you, Bell,” she whispered, now bringing her other hand up as well. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Bellamy said, feeling dumb. They both stood there like this for a second in silence. Before he could say another thing, Clarke leaned towards him and placed her lips on his cheek.

Bellamy blinked, Clarke’s hair tickling him, before she broke away and smiled at him. Then she took the keys from his hands and found the right key. It took her a few moments to get it into the lock, but then she turned it and opened the door.

Inside, she turned around to look at Bellamy one last time. Her hair was messy, her feet red, but she had a smile on her face that made Bellamy’s heart ache.

And then she shut the door.

Bellamy stared at the closed door as his mind ran a thousand thoughts a minute.

_Clarke fucking Griffin._


End file.
